


The Normal Human Concerns

by Byacolate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Established Relationship, Keith the Canonical Wolf-Whisperer, M/M, Werewolf Shiro, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 14:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15414870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/Byacolate
Summary: Shiro runs during the full moon.





	The Normal Human Concerns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scoobertdoobert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoobertdoobert/gifts).



> Bless you for inspiring me to finally write some Sheith. You're the wind beneath my wings.

_ It’s raining tonight. _

 

Keith glanced at his phone before tucking it back away in the pocket of his jeans. He knew it was raining - of course he knew. Where did Allura think he would be if not at the window, staring out at the downpour? The phone pinged again and despite himself, Keith pulled it back out.

 

_ Do you have an eye on him? _

 

He narrowed his eyes at the text, squinting for a long hard moment in the hopes that Allura might be able to feel the vibrations of his scorn. Then he shoved it back into his pocket and resumed his constant vigil.

 

A slice of lightning cracked across the sky and Keith counted the seconds before thunder rattled the staccato of rain on the roof. 

 

It was early yet. Shiro wouldn’t tire himself out for at least a few more hours. 

 

The open windows filled the house with the heady scent of petrichor. It was pleasant enough for Keith, but they weren’t open for him. The scent of home was a powerful beacon, but brewing a little hot chocolate on the stove wouldn’t hurt. Keith managed to ignore the buzzing in his pocket as he made himself a midnight snack. He left the pot of hot cocoa simmering on the stove while he occupied himself with the delicate work of reheating leftover churros.

 

They were floppy and chewy, but they smelled good enough, so Keith took his plate of old cinnamon dough and a cup of cocoa to the front door.

 

They didn’t have a porch, per se, so Keith sat at the doorstep with only the roof above to protect him from the storm. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky while Keith chewed and watched the woods.

 

When his phone started to buzz for a long steady moment, he sighed. Sucking his greasy cinnamon fingers clean didn’t take enough time to dissuade the caller, so he pulled out his phone and swiped at the green button. “What?”

 

_ “You weren’t answering my messages.” _

 

Keith lifted the cup of cocoa from his side and sipped. “I was busy.”

 

“Busy?” He could hear something on Allura’s end, tinny like a movie.  _ “No matter. Is everything alright?” _

 

“Yeah.” Sip. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

 

_ “There are truly innumerable reasons. Shall I list them for you now?” _ __  
  


Keith frowned at the woods beyond. “This isn’t our first time, Allura. Or the second.”

 

She let out a long slow breath on the other line.  _ “I know. But it’s the first time without…” _

 

His frown deepened. 

 

“He’s fine. He’ll be fine. What are you watching?”

 

_ “Hm? Oh, it’s - don’t try to distract me, Keith.” _

 

The remnants of Shiro’s prosthetic lay in mangled pieces in the garage. It was one of a kind, a prototype that shifted with Shiro’s organic form. Despite the efforts of Allura, Pidge, and Hunk alike, they hadn’t had the time to create him a new one before the full moon. It wasn’t anyone but Keith who had to watch him change, shift, and learn to pilot his own body with only three limbs.

 

“He told us he’d be fine,” Keith grunted, pushing himself up to return to the kitchen. “We just have to trust him.”

 

Her sigh gusted through the phone loud enough to make him wince. “You’re right, of course. I just can’t help but worry.”

 

Keith put his dirty plate in the sink and balanced the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he washed his hands. “Yeah, well. You’re not the only one.”

 

He considered the cup left at the door and made a quick detour to top it off with what was left on the stove before standing in the open doorway again. Ending a conversation with Allura always felt abrupt; Keith never really felt that he could offer what she wanted, even when their goals and feelings aligned. He ignored her earlier texts and put his phone on mute, leaving it charging on the wall to stand vigil in peace.

 

By the time he'd finished a lot of cocoa, dawn was only a couple of hours away. Keith stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and stood, stretching with both arms above his head. He turned to the living room and stared, slowly blinking at the quilt thrown over the back before shaking his head. Instead he retreated into the bathroom, pulling out a giant beach towel from the cupboard.

 

His feet hadn’t even found their way back to the door before he could hear the familiar howl. It rose up through the night, deep and wild and close to home - and this was  _ Keith’s _ beacon. 

 

He stood in the doorway, the light from the room behind him casting his shadow over the lawn. “Shiro,” he called, unfolding the towel. “Hey, Shiro!”

 

Another howl came from the wood, this time far closer than before. A smile curled at the corner of Keith’s mouth as he shook out the towel. He called Shiro’s name again, just before the sound of heavy paws beating upon the ground came louder than the falling rain. He took a step out and didn’t even have time to close the door behind him before a dark shape came barreling toward him with a lopsided gait. “Shir- uff!”

 

The momentum of the creature’s hurling bulk knocked him skittering on his back across the hardwood floor. Above him, blocking out the lights above, a dark head gazed down at him. Panting. Dripping, all over the nice floors. Keith caught his breath and reached up, futilely trying to soak up the worst of the muddy water dripping from its chest. 

 

“You’re a mess.” 

 

The pleased tenor of his voice revealed his relief at Shiro’s safe return, but it did nothing to discourage the snout pressing firmly at the side of his neck. _ “Gah _ \- this is so gross. Your nose is  _ freezing.” _

 

This doesn’t matter a whit to Shiro, who snuffled at Keith’s jaw and his hair. The massive claw beside Keith’s head scraped across the hardwood floors in a way Keith knew that Shiro would regret tomorrow. “Yeah, yeah, c’mere. Let me get this.” He scrubbed the towel over Shiro’s scruffy black neck and up to the sides of his face, shuddering at the feel of cold wet fur against his cheek. “Shiro, you’re really - _ack.”_ He blanched when a drop of muddy water touched his tongue. “No, c’mon, ew. Get up. Let me up.” 

 

With a little push, Shiro finally obliged, sitting back on his haunches as Keith sat up. He continued to scrub at Shiro’s head, and then his neck, his massive shoulders, and long furred arm. The stump where the prosthetic was missing seemed no worse for wear, to Keith’s great relief. “You smell like wet dog.”

 

Shiro snorted, flicking his ears. Keith’s mouth curved softly at the sight, and he reached up to scratch the forelock of white at Shiro’s brow. Shiro leaned into the touch, pressing back with his giant head as his gleaming eyes began to close.

 

Though his fur was wet, he radiated heat like an oven, and Keith didn’t mind slinging his legs over Shiro’s thighs to snug up close. In turn, Shiro drew his arm around Keith’s back, the tips of his claws grazing just under Keith’s shirt. “Hey.”

 

Shiro made a soft noise, opening his yellow eyes into slits to give Keith his attention. Keith scratched a little softer before he bunched up the sides of Shiro’s face with the sodden beach towel.

 

“You really do stink.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

When the sun came up and smooth-skinned Shiro showered up close and  _ very _ personal with Keith, they fell into bed as the birds reached the peak of their morning songs. 

 

“Allura called,” Keith mumbled against Shiro’s chest, warm and sated. Shiro’s blunt nails skimmed over the nape of his neck. Shiro yawned and nodded, quiet for a long moment before he seemed to remember that he ought to respond.

 

“Did she need something?”

 

Keith made a noise to refute him, slinging one leg over Shiro’s. “Just wanted to tell me it was raining.”

 

Shiro’s fingers drew up through his hair to cradle the back of Keith’s head. He yawned so wide that even Keith could hear his jaw crack. “Well. Maybe she worried you hadn’t noticed.” 

 

“Maybe.” Residual irritation flickered for the briefest moment before Shiro’s wandering hand snuffed it out. “Maybe. Hey, Shiro...” he started, but when he looked up, Shiro’s mouth was slack and his eyes were closed. Keith quieted himself, resting his head once more on Shiro’s shoulder. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing a high fantasy comic about a wandering bard! [Check it out from the beginning HERE!](https://bardbouquet.tumblr.com/post/179195348759/a-dwarven-heirloom-a-blade-in-the-dark-and-a)
> 
>  
> 
> "I do think of you I suppose as a warm and sentient flood and I have the normal human concerns with being overwhelmed, which is what floods do." — Alice Munro
> 
> My Tumblr: [wardencommando](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/).  
> Details about fic reque$t$ [here!](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/post/175675914506)  
> 


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